I've Got A Feeling

Twenty Five (Part 1)

This is just a filler chapter that I tried cooking up so then the next (or hopefully the next chapter will be the last one) in 1959. Sorry if it's bad quality, I tried putting in a little real life thing of them hitchhiking across England and stuff, but it didn't turn out the best. Anyway, enjoy if you like.

I gotta admit, George wasn't exactly wrong for forcing me to go hitchhiking with him. The fresh air, the amazingly vast landscapes, not to mention the sunsets. God, now I sound like a bird. He did bring Neil along, but sometimes it's nice to have other people to annoy you. Right now it's just Geo and I, since Neil and I got into a tiff and he stormed off pissed. "You could've waited to say that when he WASN'T AROUND!" Yep, George was mad. Well not mad, just irritated. "I'm sorry, I've got a lot on my mind right now-" "Yer always sayin' that." "Well this time I mean it! Now please don't walk off with him." "I want to, but you're all I got as really close friends go."

I took out a cigarette, making a drag last longer than they had been. "You on good terms?" He crossed his arms, probably wishing he had his own cig from the looks of it. "No, if I'm bein' honest. He just wants to pick up birds all the time, that's all he seems to want to do. I mean, I want a girl but I'm not that desperate! Then we got into this huge row before the trip and everything is just not right." I handed him a cigarette, seeing and hearing his unease. "Ta." We stood for a while, not knowing what to carry on with. I've been in my own head basically this whole trip and I just want to live! I just want to experience nature as it is, and not think about all this relationship shite! I stomped out my smoke, channeling anger into my foot. "You still thinkin' of 'em aren't ya?"

"Yeah, haven't been able to think properly since." "For Christ's sake Macca we've been on this trip for over two weeks, and you still can't think clearly?!" I rubbed my face tiredly, feeling the sleep in my eyes. It's so ridiculous, I can't even get a full night of sleep because of this, can't eat sometimes. "Sorry, I just, I brought you on this trip so you could take yer mind OFF OF IT!" "I-I know, okay? You think this is easy for me? If I had it my way, John wouldn't even be in my life alright? He wouldn't exist to me." "You don't mean that-" "Yes I do. I'd be living a normal life, with great mates, not giving a shit in the world." I let out a sigh.

"I won't have that snarky attitude, that pushback, the damn joking! Believe you me, my life is way better without John Winston Lennon!" The more I played it up, the more my heart ripped open. The truth is, my life was dark without John. I had no one to talk to about my problems, as a boy who is now motherless. Sure, George is great for the normal stuff, but you never, I mean NEVER get emotional in front of yer mates. If it's the ones where you've known for a long time but have never opened up to in that way, that's a vault never to be crossed. I didn't know what to do with my life, laying in bed with my guitar all day just letting depressed emotions fill my days lots of the time. Obviously there were some good days, but the bad moments outweighed them by a big percentage. Just having him there to joke around with brightened my world. And I knew that there was a spark long before others could see.

"Paul, what are you saying then? That you're gonna quit the band? Leave us behind?" "No, just- Y'know what forget I said anything." I felt my throat closing at the thought of losing him. What would I do with myself? He's the reason I put effort into my appearance everyday, waiting for him to see what I've put together. I can't afford to lose him, he means too much.

"Here." I heard the rustling of packages from the side of me. "I'm not hungry Geo." "Not even for this?" I looked over to see a shiny wrapper, crinkled with tear marks. "George- What the hell?!" "What?" "You brought biscuits and didn't tell me?! The hell does our friendship mean to you?!" "Hey, these I had to sneak out of me house y'know! I'll show Mum, two biscuit limit..who does she thinks she is? The Queen?!" I stood there, hands on my hips, annoyed that I had been jipped on sweets. "How many of those do you have in yer bag Geo?" He carried on nibbling his damn biscuit, guilt in his eyes. "C'mon, fess up. How many in there, huh?" He looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. "Four from home, two from John's."

"George Matthew Harrison!" Then he had the audacity to be snarky with me. "You know that's not my middle name." "Oh whatever. You've been hiding six packages of biscuits for over two weeks from me, not to mention Neil!" He poked me in the stomach, my insecurities creeping back. "Don't want that baby fat to grow now do we?" "George Arthur-" "Not even close." "Still! You hid them from me!"

"You want me to be honest Paul? Really honest with you?! Cause I can be!" His frame folded up, arms hugging the knees tightly. "Yes, so then we can just forget about this." The only noise being made was the whipping of the wind hitting our skin. "Look, Macca, I wish I could be okay, but I'm not, alright? It's just,-" All of a sudden Neil comes back. "I'll tell ya later." I could see his eyes bore into me from a mile away, that glare definitely learned from George. I knew none of us would be talking by the end of this experience if I didn't speak up. "Neil, if yer gonna stare at me like that just stop. I'm sorry alright?" "Accepted."

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We had stopped walking a while to rest. Neil passed out by me, head constantly falling on my shoulder and me having to push it off. Paul fell asleep basically as soon as we found a good place to lay down, him curled into the fetal position. It did get relatively cold at night wether it's summer or not and I could see him shivering. I'll never say it, but Paul is one of the best people I could have asked for. He's like a brother to me. I threw my jacket on him and the shaking began to subside. God James, you worry me.

The night sky was beautiful, I will say that. Chalked full of stars, each one different from the previous. All presented in the same black canvas. Ever since we met Cynthia things haven't been the same. Paul is more distant towards John more than anything, Stu is getting more touchy with John I've noticed, and I can't stand to be in a room with any of them just because the tensions are so bad. I know that his feelings are taking a toll on him, I do. But sometimes I just wish it would stop because I want my Paul back. I want the Macca I knew. The most powerful and destructive thing is the brain, thoughts making you cave in and listen to them, making you hate yourself. I try and comfort him, but it seems like he doesn't listen. There used to be so much happiness in his eyes, now there's only the aftermath of it.

"Paul? You awake?"

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I'm not sleeping. My eyes are closed shut as I try to block the tears, ultimately failing. I can't stop it. It scares me. What's John doing right now? Is he okay? Is he drinking his mind senseless without anyone there to protect him? They just keep pushing and pushing me.

"Paul? You awake?"

I let out a shaky breath, not wanting to answer. I don't want him to know how often I cry over this. More silence erupts, eventually me hearing the soft snores of George as he kicks his legs against Neil. I looked at my watch as it read 6:00. The sunrise very out, I rubbed my face tiredly, not even sure the last time I had a good rest. Images of John throwing up and continuing to drink his body to death, a shiver ran down my back.

I can't take this anymore, I have to see him.